


A Homestuck writer's guide to being ooc (a collection of writings)

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Arguing, Character Death, Domestic Boyfriends, Fluff, M/M, Other - Freeform, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 10:16:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21318535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A collection of probably ooc one-shots but only because they were written for my creative writing class.
Relationships: John Egbert/Dave Strider, John Egbert/Karkat Vantas
Kudos: 9





	1. Crescendo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ooc oh boy
> 
> John feels something is off and it quickly goes south.

The boy is thirteen when the sudden uneasiness creeps up his spine. His usually clean brown hair is messy and frazzled, his white T-shirt crumpled.He’s been messaging his best friend but he stopped responding a while ago. He glances around his room. Posters of poorly made movies decorate the walls and he can hear his father baking another cake downstairs.Everything is normal yet something still feels off.

He blinks.

And when his eyes open again he is clad in blue, floating above the ground. The battle cry of his friends around him swallow his hearing. There’s a tightness in his chest. He isn’t home and there’s a rainbow of blood around him.

How could he forget? Nothing is ever right.

“Dave?!” He shouts desperately for his best friend. He can vaguely hear his best friend cry out in pain. He whips his head in the direction of the source of the noise to find his friend crumpled on the floor. He hurriedly flies over to the blond, scooping him up in his arms. He looks down and oh god, that’s a lot of blood.

“Dave?” He mumbles, distraught. The coppery stench of blood fills his nostrils as the deep red liquid begins to sink into his clothing.

He barely opens his eyes to look at the boy holding him before closing them again. “Jesus Egbert.” He’s clearly struggling to even breathe and yet he continues to talk to the boy. “Where the hell have you been?” He tries to smile sarcastically but immediately stops when it hurts too much. “Wow that is, uh… A lot of blood.” He points out.

John can’t help but roll his eyes at the obvious comment. “Why are being so casual about it?” He asks. He has been used to the Strider’s usual cool kid schtick but it surprised him how far he would take it.

The boy shrugged. “I don’t know.” He looked lost and he looked at John again, with a sudden panic filling his eyes. “I don’t want to die John.” He clutches at the brunette’s blue shirt. “I-I’m only fourteen dude. I’m not ready to die.”

Dave had never looked so pathetic in his arms. He doesn’t know what else to say to the kid in his arms so he whispers, “I’m sorry.” He can feel the tears well in his eyes as he realizes he’s going to lose his best friend. He mutters out another “I’m sorry.” And he lays his head on top of his chest.

They sit in a silence that limbos between a comfortable one and an eerily uncomfortable one until the blond’s breathing stops. John realizes again one last time. Nothing is ever right.


	2. Crescendo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More ooc bullshit for the sake of keeping my A in creative writing.
> 
> In which Eridan kills Karkat.

You grunt as your swiftly kicked in the back of the legs, your knees hitting the hard ground. You wriggle your hands around in tight confines if the rope binding them together behind your back. You look up at the towering troll in front of you. His hair is wavy and pointed upwards, a bright line of violet going up the middle. His orange horns protruding from his thick mass of hair are crooked and lean backwards like an ocean wave. The fish like fins stick out on the sides of his face quite notably. His violet pupils sit against a backdrop of yellow eye whites, glaring at you crossly, behind thick, black framed glasses. Of course a goddamn mutant-blood like yourself had to be caught by a sea-dwelling violet-blood.

Unlike the troll in front of you, your blood was a vibrant red, and everyone noticed when you were bleeding. It was a stark contrast against your ashen skin and it was filthy. Your disgusting mutant blood was not welcome here on your planet. 

Your hair was always a frazzled mess and your orange horns were just barely notable nubs sticking out of the rat’s nest. Your pupils were always the biggest give away of your mutation. Your eyes were yellow just like any other trolls but by the time you hit twenty years old,your black pupils gave way to bright red ones.  
You couldn’t help but let out a feral growl at the high-blood standing in front of you. You learn to quickly regret that decision, as it is quickly rewarded with a harsh kick to your ribs, sending you flying on your back as the air is knocked out of your lungs. The slight grunt of pain was the only indication that it hurt. You’d be fine. You’ve had worse from being kicked in and abused by your own society for your blood color.  
You only glare up at the fish-like troll, your pupils narrowed to slits. You barely even notice when he begins talking.

“I’d say it’s a shame I have to cull you,” He pauses, aiming the rifle-like gun in his hands directly at you. Where the hell did he get that? “But it isn’t.” He gives you a condescending smirk to punctuate his sentence. “You know the penalty, Vantas. It’s a high-blood’s duty to eliminate low-bloods. Especially mutants like you.”  
You suddenly stiffen at the use of your last name. That was the last thing you were expecting. “How the hell do you know my name.”

The sea-dweller only let out a surly laugh, slightly lowering his gun. “It’s simple, really. Your bloodline is the only one that carries cherry red blood.”  
You roll your eyes so far up into your skull it’s a mystery they almost didn't fall out. “Oh, so now you’re stalking my family heritage. Well isn’t that just fantastic?” You snark, sarcastically.

His smirk falters and you immediately know you messed up. He brings the barrel of the gun down on your head harshly and you skull pathetically thumps against the floor. You let out a rather loud hiss of pain. Sure, you’ve endured much more pain than this, but if anyone tells you that getting your skull knocked into a solid ground doesn’t hurt, they’re either immune to pain or just plain crazy.

His voice has turned into an icy cold as he spits out his next sentence. “You really shouldn’t be talking like that with the position you’re in.” He delivers another kick to your body, aiming for the side of your face this time. Another almost-silent groan leaves your lips. “Learn your place, scum.”

You give him a defiant leer but bite back the sarcastic remark you had ready. He simply grins, readying the rife and taking aim once more. “Well, no one is around to hear, but I’m feeling charitable nonetheless.” You cock a brow in confusion. What is he getting at? “Have you any last words?”

You give a diluted stare to the troll. “I don’t support this penalty and I don’t know how any of you sick trolls can either. It’s disgusting.” Your voice doesn’t even waver once as you sit and await you death. You feel strangely calm.

You close your eyes and breathe in. You hear the sharp sound of a gunshot and you’re gone.


	3. Self-defense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat hates John. He hates him he hates him he hates him but.... he hates himself more.

You grimace as the high-pitched, cheery voice of John reaches your ears with a greeting of “Hi Karkat!”

You turn on your heels letting out a feral snarl. “What the hell do you want?”

He grins that annoyingly obnoxious smile and slings his arms over your shoulders. “What? I can’t say hi?”

You growl and quickly try to maneuver yourself out from underneath John’s arms. Somewhere in the tangled mess of limbs trip and fall over, landing harshly on your side. You grumble out a small curse, sitting up and rubbing your now aching side. You glare at the brunette before you.

“Oh gosh, Karkat! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that!” He frantically shouts and extends a hand your way. You smack his hand away (with more force than needed) and rise to your feet on your own. “Dammit Egbert don’t touch me!” You can’t stand the continual kindness he continues to show you after you keep giving him nothing but rudeness.

The heir flinches at your harsh shouting. “Sorry, I just… wanted to help. You looked upset.” He looks away nervously, avoiding eye contact. 

You inwardly cringe at yourself for making him feel bad but then stop. You don’t need to feel guilty for him, it’s his own damn fault anyway. You don’t need his kindness. You don’t need him. You don’t need anything. You don’t... You don’t deserve anything.

You feel a part of you telling you that it’s okay to accept something nice. It’s okay for you accept charity, god knows you need it. You’ve been continually kicked down and disowned your entire life and now here’s someone offering you all you could ever hope for. 

But you ignore it. You stomp the feelings down into the proverbial trash can. The good feelings of being cared for will only burn away with time and he’ll abandon you, just like everyone else has. You’re defending yourself.

“Well stop trying numbnuts. I’m something that can’t be fixed.” You glare at him angrily.

“I… fine.” His demeanor deflates entirely and you could’ve sworn you saw his face turn into an unusual scowl. You feel the familiar sting of guilt well up in your chest again.

As he continues walking away the guilt in your chest gets heavier and heavier and you feel your throat begin to constrict as well. You don’t know if you hate him or yourself more.


	4. Self-defeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to last chapter but in John's perspective.

I walked around the lab that we had been using as shelter ever since we had gotten stuck on a meteor hurtling through space. I grinned as I spotted the short troll far off in the distance mumbling to himself angrily. He seemed more stressed than usual, which was weird because he seems to be angry all the time. I didn’t know he could even look angrier than that. Well, nothing a good bro talk can’t fix!

“Hey Karkat!” I shout as I approach the troll. He turned to face me with his usual scown on his face and I can hear him snarl.

“What the hell do you want?” He immediately growl back at me. Jeez! Talk about rude! Though, I can't really say I wasn’t expecting any different.

Ignoring the rude comment, I grin and throw my arm around Karkat’s shoulders. “What? I can’t say hi?”

He suddenly begins squirming in my grasp like a fish out of water in grasp and as he tried to wiggle his way out he somehow ended up crashing to the floor with a ‘THUD’. Well dammit! This isn’t going how I had intended at all.

“Oh gosh, Karkat! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that!” I shout and extend a hand for him to latch himself onto and heave himself up. That is not what happens. Instead, He smacks my hand away, hard. Ouch!

“Dammit Egbert, Don’t touch me!”I slightly flinch back his loud volume. He must be even more pissed off than I had presumed. 

“Sorry, I was just… wanted to help.” I mumble, looking away. I feel an uneasy anxiety ride it’s way to my stomach.

He rises to his feet with little struggle, still clutching his soon-to-be bruised side. “Well stop trying, numbnuts! I’m something that can’t be fixed!”

What the hell does that even mean?! I advert eye contact as any confidence I had had before melts away. “I… fine.”

I glare at him slightly before turning and walking away. Any hint of a happy mood I had fell away and I gave a dejected stare to the ground. I walk away further and begin thinking about the numerous times he had shouted at me angrily whenever I showed him kindness. Why does he hate me so much?


End file.
